


Arc of Time

by Mobbo



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Falling from A Height, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Second Person, Time Travel, rewrite of canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-04 18:09:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14598756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mobbo/pseuds/Mobbo
Summary: Contains spoilers for Avengers: Infinity War! Be warned!“Wait,” Strange says, and then the Time Stone is slamming into your chest with the force of a bullet.





	1. Back in Hotrod Red

**Author's Note:**

> Ever have a self indulgent idea that grew legs and sprinted away from you at full speed? Whoops.

“Wait,” Strange says, blood dripping down the side of his cheek. With a small grimace, he places his shaking hands in front of his face, and with a tug and a pull and a bright flash of energy, the Time Stone glimmers into existence. 

Thanos is smug, as he lowers the gauntlet, but you have a sword through your side, and even as you feel your nanites crawling their way back up your leg, you know it will be far too late. 

“Strange,” you bite out, the taste of blood harsh on your tongue, and even after so long you taste the slightest hint of coconut. 

His eyes flash to you for the barest of moments, sharp and blue and panicked, as Thanos holds out an expecting hand. 

His hands tremble, a movement you know isn’t fear but injury, but even for that they seem to be shaking a little hard.

Hard enough that the stone ‘slips’ from its spot, pinched between two fingers. 

You feel it like a gunshot, slamming into your sternum with enough force to know you over, onto your back, and for the barest of moments your eyes close.

When they open again, Yinsen is standing over you, grinning wildly. 

A familiar blue glow lights up from your chest, and before you can manage any words out, Yinsen is pulling you to your feet. “Hands up, hands up. Let me do the talking.”

For a hallucination, or a flashback, or whatever this is, things play out exactly the same.

Right down the moment Yinsen blurts out “I will distract them.” 

You’ve been here for two months, far longer than any flashback has ever lasted, as they typically cut right to the chase. 

You had seen Yinsen die more than enough times for one lifetime. 

That was the cruel thing, really. It was what he wanted, you could recall with crystal clarity. 

That does not stop you from trying. 

That does not stop him, either. 

“Don’t throw your life away, Tony.”

Oh, you won’t.

Landing in the hot sands, your first order of business is rewiring the suit to explode in five. Yinsen had looked dismayed when you started adding explosives, but you had smiled tightly and told him it was for it something happened to you, so he could still escape. 

It was ironically cruel, in a way. 

With the giant plume of flames in the middle of the desert, it doesn’t take Rhodey nearly so long to find you. 

Finishing off the last bite of your cheeseburger, you make the announcement. “Stark Industries will no longer manufacture weapons.”

By now, you know Strange must have done something, or perhaps you had died and this was your eternal recompense, lifetime spent seeing the same faces die and betray you all over again.

This time, you don’t mention the arc reactor to Obadiah. 

He frowns when you call him that, instead of Obie. You brush it off as your time in the desert, and he seems happy enough with that.

Bastard.

As soon as that PR nightmare is over, you hide yourself away in your basement, where Jarvis greets you and it’s enough to make you collapse. He’s concerned, offering to call assistance, but you grin at the hidden camera in the corner. 

“I’m just glad you have you back, Jar.”

It’s more true than the A.I. will ever know.

The first thing you do is make a copy of every one of his lines of code, storing it on a hard drive completely disconnected from the internet. 

It’s unlikely Ultron will happen again, but you refuse the risk. 

Then, you start on your armour, not quite where you left off, but close enough that everything is still fresh in your mind.

Then again, it wasn’t likely you’d even forget. 

It takes you five weeks to make the nanites again. Compared to the years it had taken last time, you’re glad. It would have taken you three, but you had to recreate the nanites all over again, and there was a chance that your new suit won’t work as well as your old one— most of the tech you used hasn’t been invented yet.

The next order of business is your arc reactor. You can almost feel the palladium creeping through your veins again, something you know is illogical, as it hasn’t nearly been there long enough, but the taste of coconut is bitter on your tongue. 

You’d become well versed enough with the arc reactor to easily be able to swap it out yourself, the size of your hands non-withstanding, but you knew what Pepper would do with the old one.

You could only hope you got to keep it this time.

“I’m not sentimental. What are these, photos of me and dad? Get these out of here.”

Your next step should be Starkinium, but there’s still part of you that screams whenever Obadiah is in the room, and you don’t want a brand new element to be your newest golden egg. 

You can live with death in your chest until he’s gone.

It’s at the gala that time stops. 

You were about to approach Pepper, the martini she would want already in hand, but the swish of her dress freezes in mid-air, as does everyone else. 

A quiet tap sounds behind you, and in an instant the martini is on the ground, and your gauntlet is aimed steadily at the face of a woman. 

She’s bald, you note, and dressed in flowing yellow robes, but that doesn’t really matter. 

“Hello,” she smiles, and though it’s quick and fleeting, it seems almost genuine. “You have something very important in your chest.”

“Other than the thing keeping me alive, I assume.”

There’s that tense smile again, and you could cry with relief. Finally, someone who might know what’s going on. 

“Yes, other than the thing keeping you alive. I’d like to know how it got there.”

You grin, and let the repulser drop. “How long can you hold this magic thing for?”

As it turns out, indefinitely, and she listens to what you say. You leave out any emotional trauma and reactions, really more of a quick run down, but you’ve got a little over a decade to cover. It’s therapeutic, almost. She’s a very calm presence, for all the magic-mumbo-jumbo. 

“I see,” she says when you finish, and then she takes a moment to reflect. “The world owes you a great deal, Tony Stark. Keep the Eye safe.”

The world resumes in a swirl of colour, and if anyone notices the great Tony Stark disappear from the middle of the dance floor and appear sitting at the bar, his name is probably Agent. 

(Belatedly, you realize you forgot to ask her if this was real or not, but you know your mind cannot make a person from nothing, and you had never seen her before.)

Then, Coulson slides into the seat next to you. 

“Mr. Stark, I’m here on behalf of the Strate-“

He doesn’t get any further before you cut him off, “ah yes,” you say, “SHIELD. How’s old one eye doing?”

He splutters, and you enjoy the brief glimpse of the man under the mask, before you wink at him. “We’ll talk later.”

You spin on your seat, knowing full well that by the time you’re facing the other direction, he will be gone into the crowds. Everheart is there, presenting you with photos of Gulmira, and you feel the same twist in your gut you did last time. 

You know Obadiah will be lying in wait outside, and you choose not to give him the satisfaction, pushing your way through the crowd fast enough that he can’t snag you for the cameras. 

You hope the photo of him tripping as he reaches out to you makes front page. 

It does.

Obadiah isn’t happy about that, apparently. He brings pizza from New York, but insists it’s just for him and Pepper. 

You don’t want a slice anyway. 

Before you can duck back into your lab, he calls you back. “Tony,” 

You do the stupid thing, and glance over your shoulder at him, relatively thankful you’re still wearing your thick black dress-shirt to hide the reactor.

“Stay safe, alright?”

You want to punch him, but settle for smashing the hood of one of your cars instead. It’s not like you liked that one anyway. 

The next day, to fly to Gulmira. The Ten Rings don’t stand a chance.

A pair of fighter jets pull up behind you, and you would smack yourself if you weren’t in the suit. You had forgotten about them. 

Cutting power to your repulsors, you drop, and they dive after you. You can hear the retort of their guns, but nothing touches you, or if any bullets do, they’re stopped short by your armour. 

You fall until you’re uncomfortably close to the ground, not close enough to be dangerous for the jets, but far enough that when your repulsors flick on and you blast into the sky, the ones on your feet merging into a bigger one, the twin jets don’t stand a chance.

You wonder if you should call Rhodey anyway, but decide against it. He could always be told later, and you were enjoying your flight right now. 

Landing back in Malibu, your suit returns to your reactor as Pepper pulls one of the glass doors open. She’s here sooner this time, you note. Last time you had time to land and get over the adrenaline rush before starting on getting the armour off. 

“Pep! What can I do for you?” 

“There’s an Phil Coulson waiting for you upstairs? He said he had an appointment booked, but I couldn’t find his name on any of the lists...”

“Oh, yeah, that was me. I didn’t think he’d be here so soon.”

She gives you a sharp glare, and you pat her on the shoulder as you pass. “I’ll let you know next time, alright?”

You’ll also buy her new shoes, nice red high heels she had loved last time. You’re unaware of her gaping at your retreating back.

Taking the steps two at a time, you find Agent standing where Fury had, when he first introduced you to the world of SHIELD. 

You wonder what it is about that specific spot that draws spies to it. When Natalie Rushman shows up, you should take her to Malibu, just to see where she chooses to stand. 

As soon as your foot hits the top step, Coulson turns around, a tight smile on his face.

There have been a lot of tight smiles, you note. There doesn’t really seem to be much to smile about. 

“Stark. How did you find out about SHIELD?”

Straight to the point, then. You shoot him a look, before sitting on your couch in a relaxed position. 

“Hello, tech genius here?” 

Agent seems to relax a little, “Thats what I told Fury, he wanted to confirm.”

If there was anything else Coulson wanted to add, he didn’t get a chance, as Obadiah came into the room in a rush. 

“Tony!” He exclaims, then turns to Coulson and pulls a shocked face. “Who’s this? A friend?” 

For a moment, all you can see is red, even as you stand and move away from the couch. The last time you sat on it with Obadiah in the room he ripped your heart out. 

“Uh, no actually. This is Agent from the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division. We’re collaborating.”

Obadiahs face darkens for a moment, but then he’s back to a big grin. You wonder how you could have been so blind last time. 

The things trust does to a person.

Coulson pauses for a moment, as if thinking up a believable lie, and then offers his hand. 

“It’s nice to meet you, sir. My name is Phil Coulson, I was just discussing some design ideas with Mr. Stark here.”

You fold your hands behind your back. “Top-secret spy stuff.” 

You get a look from both men for that, but neither push you. 

“Well, you’re welcome back anytime,” Stane says, “and I hate to interrupt, but I need to talk to Tony about something.”

Agent gives him a fake smile, and then excuses himself, the echo of his footsteps chasing him out the front door. 

Obadiah moves, maybe to clap you on the shoulder, or maybe to sling an arm around, but you move quicker than him and escape. Turning, you see him tuck something in his pocket, and you know he must know about the arc reactor. 

“Come on now, Tony. Is that any way to treat the man who helped raise you?” 

It’s certainly the way to treat the man who tried to kill you. 

“You’ve been... different, since you came back from Afghanistan.”

“Living for three months in a cave does that to you.”

“...what, exactly, did they tell you in that cave, Tony?”

You grin, sharp, and dangerous. “That someone had been dealing weapons under the table.”

Stane holds his composure well, you’ll give him that. 

There’s silence in the room, except for the gentle hum of the arc reactor, and then a piercing shriek. You try to curse but your jaw is frozen, and you slump the ground even as the sound disappears. 

Obadiah kneels on you, placing his knee on your stomach, and you want to gag and cough but you can’t get your muscles to move.

Dammit, this wasn’t supposed to happen again!

The deranged man rips the front of your shirt open, grinning wildly when he sees the arc reactor. Just as he goes to trace a finger over its glowing blue surface, you hear the sharp clack of heels coming up the stairs from your lab.

Pepper.

Obadiah is unaware of her, it seems, too caught up in the euphoria of finding Tony’s arc reactor. 

Pepper hits the top step, sees you on the ground with Obadiah trying to take your heart out, and screams. 

In the end, Stane is arrested. It’s easy to convict him, Jarvis was recording the entire exchange and as soon as the tapes were submitted as evidence he earns a life sentence on charge of attempted man-slaughter.

The news has a field day. First, the mysterious flying figure what would come to be known to the world as Iron Man, and then the arrest of the right hand man of the CEO of Stark Industries. 

That evening, you realize nobody knows you’re Iron Man.


	2. Iron Man Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go a lot smoother than you expect them to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Admittedly I think this one isn’t as good, largely because I don’t remember Iron Man two all that well. Plus it’s pretty dependent on the world knowing Tony is Iron Man and since I kinda tossed that out the window... whoops.

The first thing you should have done was create Starkinium. You should have been away in your lab, picking holes in the walls and laying out metal casing so you didn’t have to do it when you were half dead— but it wasn’t.

 

You instead spent your time at press conferences, assuring them that Obadiah being arrested in no way reflected on your company. Assuring them that you were still standing strong. Assuring them that weapons were not being developed.

 

That you had nothing to do with Iron Man.

 

Your time spent at home you spent with Pepper, or Rhodey. Pepper, you spent your time explaining what happened in Afghanistan. You never told her the full story before, and even with a decade or a month between you and it, the time you spent there was near impossible to recount in a timely matter.

 

She didn’t seem to mind though, and you wonder why you never did this before. (Probably something to do with your father figure literally ripping your heart out, and destroying any chance you had of letting someone that close to you again for many years)

 

Your time with Rhodey, you spend hanging out. Having a good time. Challenging him to little races, which you know you’ll lose, but you enjoy the sight of him using his legs free of your tech either way.

 

That’s your biggest dilemma. War Machine.

 

Rhodey had loved his suit, being able to fight for his country far more efficiently than eve before, and he had loved knowing he had your back, when it seemed you had gone somewhere he couldn’t follow.

 

Not that he would know it was you, this time.

 

But you had seen where War Machine led him. You had seen him fall from a hundred feet in the sky, you had seen your best friend in a hospital bed with a dozen monitors and IVs, you remember the look on his face when he was told he would never walk again.

 

You would do everything in your power to prevent Civil War from happening again. That was what split you apart and left you open to Thanos, but you didn’t want to take that freedom away from your friend.

 

It seems you would be taking freedom away from your friend either way.

 

There is one way you can think of, but the set of circumstances would need to be perfect to deflect suspicion from you. If you’re really going this route, which by god you’re trying to, then it’s imperative that Rhodey and Pepper are convinced.

 

The kid probably won’t idolize you this time. You ignore the bitter taste that leaves in your mouth. You miss him already, you think, before plunging elbow deep into your next project, prosthetics. There’s no time for sentimentality in a Stark, you tell yourself.

 

That night, you wake to the echoes of Strange screaming.

 

Stumbling back into your lab, you shake your head. The fate of the world has no time for sentimentality.

 

You need to keep on working. Keep on changing things. With a little help from Jarvis, you’ve found AIM, and though disabling their servers remotely isn’t ideal, it still works. Extremis is still in development, and you copy the codes to a remote server before rigging them to explode the next time they’re opened. With a little work they could be a medical miracle.

 

Next you work your way into SHIELD. You know all of their codes, and you know what they’ll be changed to before Fury does. They don’t stand a chance.

 

Once you’re in, you start outing HYDRA agents. If Fury is alarmed at the sudden list of HYDRA agents appearing on every monitor on the helicarrier, he doesn’t show it. It’s a bit of a shame, really, you had hacked into the cameras specifically to preserve whatever expression he pulls.

 

You’re glad to say, it doesn’t get as severe as all of the info on every agent out there needing to be released to the public.

 

It does take SHIELD out of commission for weeks, as those who are certainly not HYDRA work to figure out how they could have been invaded so far, without anyone knowing. It’ll be a tough job that one, all the way back to SHIELDS roots.

 

You would help them, but you have other things to do.

 

Such as a man-hunt. Not much of one, granted, but since old daddy dearest pretty much erased Vanko’s name, a man-hunt all the same.

 

You find where he lives the day the government calls you in for an official hearing.

 

Well, not you, exactly. Iron Man. Not that there’s much of a difference at this point.

 

The gleaming red and gold of your suit is in stark contrast with the formal blacks and greys of everyone else. You sit, leaning back, feet resting on the table in front of you, and to your satisfaction the Senator doesn’t say a word.

 

HYDRA bastard.

 

In fact, he looks like he’s sweating a little bit. A quick scan shows you a row of elevated heart rates, and with a self-congratulatory smirk, you tell Jarvis to keep them in the corner of your view screen.

 

The Senator clears his throat, shuffling the papers in front of him almost awkwardly before leaning into the mic on his desk to speak.

 

“Uh, Mr. Man,”

 

“Just call me Iron Man. Mr. Man sounds dumb.” Your upgraded vocal processors do a good job of scrambling your voice, you note. You sound almost like some knock-off Daft Punk.

 

He wets his lips before trying again, “Mr. Iron Man, how did you gain possession of this suit?”

 

He’s determined to add Mr. to your name, you’ll give him that. “I built it myself.”

 

“Heh,” the Senator huffs, “so you are in no way affiliated with Stark Industries or Hammer Tech?”

 

“Not at all.”

 

“I find that doubtful, Mr. Iron Man.”

 

“I’m sure you do. Next question? And drop the Mr, it just sounds weird.”

 

He’s visibly frustrated now. Jarvis has better be recording every second of this.

 

“Mr... Iron Man, can you provide proof you’re in no way affiliated with Stark or Hammer?”

 

“I thought we were moving on from this— no.”

 

“Then I hereby declare we have legal rights to your suit, and any other weaponry you may have—“

 

“Actually, no you don’t. The suit is mine. I payed for the materials, and it technically does not classify as a weapon.”

 

“You’ve been flying around and shooting things.” He insisted, and ooh, his heart rate just picked up a bit.

 

Taking your feet off the desk, you lean forward, and everyone’s heart-rate notably speeds up. “My repulsors are nothing more than a flight stabilizer. I have a permit to carry guns, which I do.”

 

Before the Senator has a chance to respond, Hammer bustles into the room, looking like he just came from a long sprint.

 

“Mr. Hammer,” the Senator greets, ignoring what you said.

 

“Hello Senator, I am here to testify over stolen tech?”

 

“I am well aware, Mr. Hammer.” The Senator turns back to you, and you can barely stay in your seat. You should have seen it coming that Hammer would try to claim your tech as his.

 

“What stolen tech are we talking here? I can probably track it down.” As you speak, you’re digging through Hammers personal database, until you come across the same video as last time. You have to hand it to the man, he was fast.

 

“Uh Yes, I’m suing Mr. Man over here for—“

 

“Jesus, again? Iron Man. Not Mr. Man. Not Mr. Iron Man. Just Iron Man, got it?”

 

Hammer looks flustered and you smirk. This is only the beginning.

 

“I’m suing Iron Man over here for stealing the work of Hammer Tech. That suit was my original design, and—“

 

“Bullshit.” You cut him off, flat and simple.

 

“...as I was saying, that suit was my original design, and—“

 

“As _I_ was saying, Bull. Shit.” Hammer slams his hands on the table, and wheels to face you. Before he can lash out in a temper, the Senator chooses to but in.

 

“I would like to see some backup to your claims, Iron Man.”

 

“Oh, you want back up from me, huh? Alright, Hammer. Do you have any of the blueprints?”

 

It’s remarkable how quickly his face pales. “I, uh, those are, uh, classified?”

 

You level him a look, even if it’s lost behind the mask. “Alright, what does this do then?” You ask, presenting a button your nanites just finished constructing.

 

“It uh... activates the guns?”

 

You hit it, and a puff of shiny paper flies into the air around you. “Confetti. Do I need further proof?”

 

The Senator scowls heavily, but to his credit, he admits defeat. Under your feet, the shiny ‘paper’ melts back into your armour, the thin scraps of metal disappearing as if they never existed.

 

You don’t back down though, not yet. “Actually, Mr. Senator, I have something I think will be of interest to you.”

 

Walking to the tv which is still in the corner, though switched off this time, you turn it one via remote access, before uploading Hammers little suit malfunction.

 

As expected the man goes mad, scrambling at the tv to turn it off, going as far as to unplug it, but with the armour as a power source he doesn’t stand a chance.

 

“Oh yeah, one more thing.” The nearest press camera trains on you instead of Hammer, the cameraman behind it looking a little excited and confused. “Thanks to Ivan Vanko and his dad.”

 

You leave the room in chaos, and send Ivan a bag full of top quality bird feed.

 

It’s the least you can do.

 

Sitting in your home, you lean back on the couch and rethink your options. You should get around to Starkinium, sooner or later, preferably sooner, but there’s so many other things that are going to happen, or that are happening, that you don’t have time.

 

You don’t exactly have Natalie Rushman around to motivate you either.

 

Pepper walks into the room, the sharp clack of her cherry red heels echoing from the hall, and she pauses before sitting next to you. There’s silence between the two of you, and that helps you relax. After the first time, she never pushed you into talking, instead just letting you tackle things at your own pace on your own time.

 

“Pep?”

 

“Yes, Tony?”

 

“How do you feel about taking over Stark Industries?”

 

That night was the first and fiftieth time you kissed her.

 

You had wanted to avoid putting that weight on her, but this time she doesn’t seem nearly as stressed, it sours your gut to think you were the reason of her distress last time.

 

You don’t sleep that night either, spending the whole evening crafting Starkinium. It was about time you got to that anyway.

 

The Stark Expo goes off without a hitch, and afterwards you see a little boy in a very familiar hoodie in the crowd. He’s not wearing an Iron Man mask this time, but you would recognize Peter anywhere, and he still has that gleam of admiration in his eyes.

 

If you ruffle his hair as you pass, tell him he’s gonna do great things, well, that’s just between you and him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter still looks up to Tony, superhero or no. You just needed a little help seeing that. I think the Avengers is up next. Exciting!


	3. Plummet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s about time the Avengers come around, you think. You’ve had years to prepare, after all. Years to plan.  
> Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t work out.

If Thor had wondered about the man in red and gold who showed up for damage control in New Mexico, he didn’t speak a word of it. At least, not until the battle was over and he clapped you on the shoulder. “Well done, ally. I am Thor Odison, god of thunder!”

You don’t stumble, and even if that’s only thanks to the suit you’re proud of yourself. “Iron Man. Just a guy in a fancy suit.” You say, and Thor seems a little taken aback.

“You are surely a great warrior, to face such adversity without fear, Man of Iron!” Well, you wouldn’t say you were exactly fearless, but you know Thor has beaten the big old tin can before, and you were never really in direct danger, save for a stray beam or thrown god. You were really just there to cut down property damage.

And get Jane her equipment and research back from SHIELD, but that was kind of secondary. “Thanks, Point Break.” 

You can practically see the question, but the roar of your thrusters drown it out as you track down the helicarrier. You do have equipment to return after all. 

You manage to walk straight into Fury’s office before anyone thinks to question who you are and what you’re doing there. Of course, that person is Fury himself so it doesn’t count for much. 

“Ms. Jane Foster, I believe you have some equipment of hers?” You ask, even though you already know the answer.

“It will be returned as soon as the situation is—“ 

“Yeah about that,” you cut in, “problems gone. Her equipment?”

Fury gives you a hard look, and then types something out on his laptop. “Already on its way.”

“Good.” You respond, and turn around to walk right back out when he stops you.

“Have you ever heard of the Avengers Initiative?”

*** *** ***

Sealing the last of the pipes with an armoured hand, you blast a fair distance away in your armour before bursting out from the cool waters. Moving to New York had been tricky, especially considering that if anyone saw Iron Man landing on Stark Tower, the cat would pretty much be out of the bag. 

You had started a relationship with Pepper again, and much to your relief she seems exponentially less stressed about the whole thing. Likely because of the whole secret identity, but you’re glad it’s working out. 

War Machine was still on the table as a decision you weren’t sure you had the right to make, though Rhodey made plenty of visits. There just never seemed to be the right opportunity. 

In your lab, there’s a suit in gunmetal grey carrying more guns than you do, built specifically for someone who was not you.

Flying back to New York, you take time to appreciate the view. They had never quite managed to build it the same after the Chitauri. The hologram of a clear sky over Stark Tower flickers on as you approach, to anyone below Iron Man flew straight on past. It was a simple little bit of illusionary, covering the sky were you actually were, and creating a fake that would fly straight for a while before vanishing. 

It even managed to fool SHIELD. 

The wind ruffles your hair as your suit retracts, and Pepper steps out from the nearby stairs, eyes shielded from the harsh sunlight. She had wondered about how much time you spent on the rooftop but you had told her it was for the view. That was something she had a hard time arguing with. “Tony, could you look over these papers for me real quick?” She asks, and you grin. 

“It’s all work with you, Pep.” Pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, you take the clipboard from her and smooth out the papers which are threatening to escape in the wind.

It’s the final line of documentation for your line of prosthetics to be released to the public. The world of medical sciences had been blown away by what you had created, and naturally needed to test every prosthetic in every situation. 

You were rather proud. Skimming the paperwork, looking for anything off like overpricing or changing where 50% of the proceeds would be going, to charities, you found nothing off and handed the clipboard back to Pepper, who signed it with a flourish. 

“This calls for drinks,” you say, and Pepper smiles. 

You get the feeling your evening time with her would be interrupted by Coulson, but you would do your best to enjoy your time anyway.

Sure enough, Agent steps out of your elevator halfway through your second glass of wine, watered down. 

“Stark,” he says in way of greeting, and you smirk at him.

“Agent.”

“We’re assembling a team of heroes, and Fury wants you to work on equipment for them.” Coulson briefcase, a sleek black, clicks open, revealing paper copies of every Avengers file. You wave him off, not even touching it.

“Oh I know all that already.” 

Coulson raises and eyebrow, and then pulls out the file on Iron Man.

What the hell, you needed a good laugh anyway. “I don’t like to be handed things.” 

After an awkward drink swap, Pepper hands you the case, and you sit in your relatively cheap upholstery. It’s going to be destroyed by Loki at some point, you can get the expensive stuff later. Agent disappears, and Pepper excuses herself despite your protests. 

“The celebration was nice Tony,” she says, after a brief kiss, “but the company won’t run itself.” 

You tell her you could make an AI to run it for her, and she laughs the suggestion off. 

As the elevator slides down, you flip open to the front of Iron Mans page. It’s pretty clear whoever they got to write this knows nothing about Iron Man.

“Jesus, who wrote this, Hammer?” You ask rhetorically, and a quiet female voice answers you from behind. 

“Actually yes. You were unavailable and he claimed to be the expert on it.” Natasha says, and smoothly moves into the couch across from you.

“What is it, break into Stark Tower day? I should call the cops.” 

Natasha smiles lightly, and you can’t help but wonder if she’s faking it. You’re good at seeing through masks, but hers is one you haven’t managed to crack yet. “Technically, we are the cops. Government and all.”

“Technicalities,” you say, flapping an arm at her. “I’m guessing you want something specific?” You add, rummaging around for the Black Widow report.

“How do you know I’m on the team?” She questions smoothly, and you wave her off, not bothering to glance up.

“J, pull up SHIELDs file on,” you pause, as if searching for a name, “Natalie Rushman?”

Natasha smiles, a cool quirk of the lips and nothing more. “Natasha Romanov.”

“What’s the difference?” You ask, rhetorically, and she doesn’t answer, too busy studying the file Jarvis has pulled up. 

You don’t hear her leave, unsurprising, but there’s a scrap of paper with a few requests scrawled on it. New Widow Bites, unsurprising, but there’s a few little things you don’t expect. You never pegged Natasha for the lipstick type, but the. You apparently haven’t invented smudge-less lipstick yet. 

You’re well through those, having consulted an expert on the manners of lipstick by the name of Pepper, and onto a pair of pants that will fit both the Hulk and Bruce when Jarvis lets you know that SHIELD has begun looking for members of the Avengers. 

Rolling away from your desk on your wheely chair, you take a deep breath, a run over one more time what you’re going to say to the good Captain. What you’re going to say to all of them. 

Even if it kills you, Thanos will not set foot on Earth. Not this time. 

Standing, the Iron Man armour builds itself around you, and another illusion flickers into place as you leave. 

This is going to be a very long day. 

***

Finding the Helicarrier is easy enough, it could really use the stealth upgrades you offer in the future. Cap and Widow are standing outside, and after a moment your scanners pick out Banner as well, though he’s more inside. Cap is giving you a look of wonder, and you have to resist the urge to make a snarky comment as you land. 

“Captain.” You say instead, and he nods.   
“Iron Man. I’ve heard about you from SHIELD,” and here comes the kicker, you think. You only fight for yourself.

“Good work out there,” he says instead, and pats you on the shoulder. Then, everyone not in a technologically advanced suit heads indoors, and the Helicarrier takes to the skies, leaving you and you alone outside.

You had expected a lot of things for when you met Cap again. A compliment was not one of them.

It takes a moment, but Jarvis nudges you and you step inside. 

Loki has been spotted. You choose to sit the quinjet ride, enjoying the team atmosphere while it lasts. For now it might just be you, Nat, and Cap, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t a team. You just aren’t the Avengers yet.

Loki is as easy to capture as last time, perhaps even easier, and just the same there’s a thunderstorm halfway back. This time, though, you manage to talk the god of Thunder down, assuring him you’re on the same side. 

This earns you another compliment from Steve, and this time it’s almost bitter. Of course, there’s no love for Stark. Iron Man, recommended, after all.

Landing back on the Helicarrier, Loki is marched to the Hulk-proof cage, and rather than instigate anything with the team, you choose to stand guard. A few people flit in and out of the room, a couple of younger SHIELD agents who want to goggle at the Norse god locked up in their basement before returning to duty. 

You’re just beginning to drift off when Loki speaks. “Who are you?” He asks, and you can practically feel him peel at your armour, and not your metal one.

“Just a guy in a fancy suit.” 

“A warrior in armour is still a warrior,” he responds, and you hear the bribery for what it is. 

“Funny, your brother said the same thing.” He shuts up after that, stalking to a farther corner of the cell. 

You’re asleep for maybe an hour or two before immense wind pressure wakes you up, almost sucking the suit out before you lock onto the deck. SHIELDs special little cage is plummeting to earth, and for a moment your sensors pick out a certain God of Thunder before its well out of range. 

The Helicarrier shakes violently, and begins to list as you curse violently. “J? Pull up schematics for the Helicarrier!” Your suit buzzes, clicks, a fragment of sound clicks through, and you realize power has failed exactly as the Arc Reactor shuts off, and the suit pulls back, leaving one very human, very vulnerable Tony Stark plummeting to the ground, his heart dead in his chest even as he breathes.

It’s funny, you think. Spider-Man has a parachute. War-Machine has a parachute. Iron Man? The oh-so-Invincible Iron Man?

He has nothing but wind currents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn that Loki eh? Kind of a shorter chapter this time, but this seemed like a good place to end it for now. I don’t know if this will be brought up next chapter or not so I’ll toss it here, Tony would have stayed awake but a certain Norseman god, despite not having the sceptre, still has magic, and just so happens to be fairly good at thing putting things to sleep.   
> The suit? Well.


End file.
